


Control

by humanveil



Category: Casino Royale (2006), Confessions of a Shopaholic (2009)
Genre: Bottom Le Chiffre, Crossover, Dom/sub, Feathers & Featherplay, Light Bondage, M/M, Orgasm Control, Rough Sex, Sub Le Chiffre
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 09:57:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6653269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/humanveil/pseuds/humanveil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Le Chiffre longs to be controlled. Luke is happy to give him what he wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Control

**Author's Note:**

  * For [murdergatsby](https://archiveofourown.org/users/murdergatsby/gifts).



> Dedicated to my lovely sin squad. Thank you for the ideas. I hope this is everything you wanted and more.

Luke circles him, his movements only somewhat awkward, and watches as Le Chiffre moves two fingers in and out of himself. His legs are already shaking, body quivering with the anticipation of what is to come, what already has come.

A few well-placed words and good timing had been all it took to talk Luke into their current situation, for which Le Chiffre was glad. He had always had a need to be controlled, a longing in the pit of his gut, and he trusts Luke to fulfil that craving, wants him to.

“Add another.”

The words are still hesitant, the dominant tone still foreign to Luke, but Le Chiffre loves it all the same. He moans at the command, low and quiet and breathy, and does as he’s told.

He’s completely naked, laid out atop their shared bed, sprawled in the middle while he works himself open. Luke stands to the side, still dressed in a designer suit, perfectly composed, if not for the sheen of sweat coating his forehead, or the obvious dent in his pants.

Luke continues to watch, quiet and unmoving until Le Chiffre is panting on the bed, back arching with every twist of his own hand, cock hard and proud, curled against his stomach. It’s a beautiful sight, one he could watch forever, and yet…

“Stop.”

Le Chiffre obeys quickly, almost too quickly, both of his hands dropping to the duvet before he can even think. Luke’s lips twitch, almost amused to see his lover like this. Perhaps he shouldn’t’ve, but he can’t help but mutter, “Good boy.”

Or perhaps it was exactly the right thing to say, because a low whine leaves Le Chiffre’s mouth as soon as the words are out, and Luke feels oddly pleased with himself.

He moves closer to the bed, stopping at Le Chiffre’s left side and picking up his arm, fingers trailing over his wrist softly. Le Chiffre looks up at him, pliant and vulnerable in a way Luke has never seen him, in a way he wants to see him again, and Luke smiles.

They’ve discussed what they’re doing, created boundaries and explained what they will and won’t do. Still, there’s a safeword in place; not only for Le Chiffre, but for Luke, too.

With his free hand, Luke grabs the rope from their nightstand. It’s made from black silk, shining under their bedroom light. He wraps it around Le Chiffre’s wrist once, and then twice, making sure it isn’t too tight, but that is isn’t loose enough for him to escape, either. Le Chiffre yields to his touch, moving as he’s prompted, and Luke quickly bounds the wrist to their headboard before repeating his movements with the other one. He leaves Le Chiffre’s legs free, finding it easier to fuck him when he can move him how he likes.  

“Close your eyes.”

Again, Le Chiffre complies quickly, his eyes shutting as he listens to Luke move around him. Luke removes his blazer and tie, and rolls the sleeves of his white dress shirt to the elbow, but otherwise remains clothed.

He disappears for a second, dashing into their closet to get something before coming back. It had been a surprise when he’d discovered _this_ particular kink, but he had no qualms in indulging Le Chiffre, not when the other man had given him so, so much.

The feather is soft in his hand, sliding against his skin smoothly, and Luke supposes he can see why Le Chiffre would like it. He moves back to the bed, standing to the side of it and leaning over Le Chiffre slightly. He doesn’t say anything, just lets the feather slide over Le Chiffre’s ribs, holding back a grin as the other man gasps, his eyes shooting open as he looked up at him.

Le Chiffre’s voice is quiet and hoarse when he talks, his arousal evident, his accent thick. “You—”

“I didn’t say you could talk,” Luke murmurs, moving the feather across Le Chiffre’s nipple and relishing at the jolt of his lover’s body; the way his breath catches in the silent room.

He moves the feather lower, pleased with the how Le Chiffre’s body trembles at the touch, at the way he moves his head back and squeezes his eyes shut, mouth falling open as tiny, broken whimpers leave his mouth. Le Chiffre arches into Luke’s touch, into the soft glide of the feathers against his abdomen. If it didn’t feel so good, he would almost be ashamed to fall apart so quickly.

Luke lets the feather glide against Le Chiffre’s cock, and the other man reacts to it with a loud mantra of _please, please, please, oh god, please, Luke, please._ The sound of him begging is enough for Luke to let the feather drop to their side, his hands moving to the fly of his pants to get them off as quick as he can. Le Chiffre watches him, gaze appreciative as Luke’s pants drop to the floor, his underwear following. Luke doesn’t bother with the shirt, and the peak of his cock from between the shirt tails almost sends Le Chiffre mad.

Settling between Le Chiffre’s spread legs, Luke grabs hold of his calves, his hands running up their length and to toned thighs, his nails digging in just slightly. Le Chiffre’s hole was still ready from his own preparation, and Luke doesn’t bother preparing him further. He lifts his lover’s hips, settling them on his own thighs, and reaches for the discarded bottle of lube. Le Chiffre watches as Luke lathers his cock, his hands holding onto their bounds as if it’ll help tame his anticipation.

Luke pushes inside of him easily, low groans leaving both of them at the sensation. His hands dig into Le Chiffer’s hips, fingernails leaving dents in the skin. Le Chiffre had told him not to wait, but Luke still halts his movements when he’s completely inside of the other man, his gaze moving to lock with the other’s, silently questioning if it’s alright to continue.

“Please,” Le Chiffre tells him, voice barely a whisper, and Luke doesn’t need to hear anything else.

He withdraws almost completely before slamming back in, his own moan matching Le Chiffre’s cry. He does it again, and again, and again, each thrust punctuated by a broken noise leaving Le Chiffre’s mouth.

Le Chiffre tightens his old on his restraints, needing something to grab onto while arching into each of Luke’s thrusts, pushing back against every movement. It’s all he can do, other than quiver and gasp with each touch. He’s in no position to do anything but accept what Luke decides to give him, and the thought is enough to get him off.

Luke moves his hands to Le Chiffre’s thighs, prompting the other man to wrap his legs around his waist. Le Chiffre does, ankles crossing over each other as he pulls Luke even closer to him, submitting easily as the other man fucks him in earnest.

The room fills with the sound of skin slapping against skin, of heavy breathing a low moans, of gasps and pleas of _please, please, Luke, please_. Luke enjoys it much more than he originally thought he would, and he leans down to press his mouth against Le Chiffre’s, teeth and tongue clashing together in an almost painful way. He pulls back only when he’s out of breath, when he’s worried Le Chiffre might need the inhaler resting on their nightstand.

“You’ll come untouched,” he says, breath ghosting over his lover’s face. “And not until I say you can.”

Le Chiffre nods and says _yes, yes_ like he’s never agreed to anything more. Coming untouched wasn’t going to be an issue, not when he’d been on the brink of it all night, he just wasn’t sure if he could wait.

Luke picks up his pace, fucking him harder and faster than before, slamming against his prostate with each thrust. He’s on the brink of coming almost embarrassingly quickly, the familiar heat coiling in his lower stomach. He tilts his head back against the pillow, eyes shutting and mouth opening as Luke fucks him into the mattress.

It’s nearly humiliating how much Le Chiffre wants to come, is ready to, but he doesn’t let his shame stop him from begging, _pleading_ with Luke to let him. Luke holds out for a few minutes longer, waits until he can feel himself getting close, before finally grunting his permission.

Le Chiffre comes not even seconds after, mouth open in a silent cry as thick spurts of come coat his stomach and stain Luke’s shirt. His body spasms, trembles, while Luke continues to fuck him in a steady, savage pace.

With the little strength he has left, Le Chiffre clenches around Luke, lifts into each new thrust until his lover comes, moaning loudly and filling him. Luke remains still for a minute, still clenching onto Le Chiffre’s hips while regaining his breathing.

“Luke,” Le Chiffre says after a moment, his voice raspy. “I need—”

Eyes widening, Luke pulls out as carefully as he can before reaching to their bedside table. He takes hold of the platinum inhaler that rests there and shakes it twice before bringing it to Le Chiffre’s lips, pressing down and watching as the other man gulped down the air.

He waits for Le Chiffre’s breathing to even out before talking, an amused smile pulling at the corners of his lips. “I was that good, huh?”

"Perfect," Le Chiffre says, satisfied and sleepy as he smiles up at Luke. “We're definitely doing that again, mon amour.”


End file.
